"I hear," she replied doggedly; "but I will not go, unless the Shastree bid me. Choose now between us: send me out of thy house to thy shame, and keep her, to thy worse shame; or send her away. There can be no compromise between good and evil, shame and dishonour."
"She speaks truly, friend," said the Shastree mildly. "It must be done. How do we know she is a priestess?"
Tara had not entirely lost the presence of mind which she naturally possessed, though she found it failing rapidly. "Put me to the proof," she said quickly,—"the proof. If there be a temple of the Mother's here, let me sit in it before her a night and a day—haply she may come to her child, as she did at Tooljapoor. Ye can watch me too, there. If she come not—then she hath abandoned me, and ye can kill me if ye please, sirs; better ye did so, for I am indeed friendless."
"Not so," cried the widow; "thou hast friends, Tara, many and powerful—myself the greatest of all; but—not as thou art. Choose!"
"I have chosen, lady," said the girl sadly. "Take me to the temple now—even now,—and leave me there. A vessel of water is enough, and a woman to watch me at night, if ye will not watch yourselves. I have already eaten, and want no food. I would go to the Mother."
"It is some device, brother," said Pudma suspiciously; "some device to fly, to escape, or——"
He smiled and shook his head. "It requires a braver heart than a girl's to face the mountain-paths alone at night among the bears and the panthers, sister, and nought but a bird could escape down the precipices. Why these unjust suspicions? Art thou ready, Tara? If so, follow me, and thou too, Shastree; we will settle this matter at once. There is no one now in the Rajah's temple. He has already paid his devotions, and is preparing to meet the Khan. Come, the ordinary priests are there, and there is no fear of her. Come, Tara, fear not. If thou art true, the Mother will defend thee. Dost thou trust her, girl?"
"Take me to her," she replied. "I have no refuge but with her. I am ready." Then she turned to embrace Amba Bye, who now entered sobbing, and fell upon her neck.
"I will come to thee by-and-by," she whispered. "It is but a step, and I will watch with thee at night. I have a vow to pay to the Mother. Go with my husband."